On the rare occasion I’d seen her wear any makeup, it was maybe a hint of pink on her cheeks or some soft color on her eyes. Hell, she’d never even worn lipstick. Nothing like the dark brown in the creases of her lids or the black ink that lined her lashes—it was a thin line, but that wasn’t the point.
“It’s just a little bit of color. I wanted to look nice today.”
“A little bit of color? Ma, it looks like you ran face-first into an oil painting before it finished drying. Your lips are purple. And . . .” I leaned in for a closer look. “Are those fake lashes?”
“Heavens no.” She made it sound like my question was preposterous. “I found that if I do one coat of thickening mascara and one coat of lengthening, it works best. And my lipstick isn’t purple . . . it’s mauve.”
Mom patted my chest and turned to walk away. That’s when I realized Aunt Diane had already left the room. I was willing to bet she was the culprit behind this shocking transformation. I’d been staying with my mother for days, and even though I hadn’t been around her every second, this was the first I’d seen her like this.
“Are you limping?” Seeing the way she babied her left leg made me forget all about the paint by numbers on her face. “Oh my God! What happened?”
When I carefully held her arm in concern, she stilled. “I’m fine. Stop worrying. I just took a little fall last night at Derby practice, that’s all.”
Stunned, I wasn’t sure where to begin. “Derby?”
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you? I joined a local Roller Derby league.”
“You can’t do that. You’re old!”
“Watch your tongue, young man. I’m one of the younger ones on the team. Plus, Grace says age is just a number—then again, she’s likely pushing a hundred. She’s one tough ol’ biddy.”
“So you did this last night? When? I was with you most of the evening, and you were in bed at ten when I came home.”
“No I wasn’t. I didn’t get in until almost midnight.”
“What?” My eyes ached from being opened so wide. “I thought you were asleep. I made sure to be extra quiet so I didn’t wake you up.”
With a dismissive wave, she continued toward the kitchen, talking over her shoulder. “It seems it was a wasted effort on your part, huh?”
“Ma . . . what’s going on?” This had to be some sort of toxic combination of grief and denial. Considering she’d just lost her husband a couple of months ago, I guess this kind of behavior wasn’t completely unwarranted.
She continued through the kitchen and out the sliding glass door to the back patio with me hot on her heels. Aunt Diane came out of nowhere and stopped me before I made it outside, holding me back with a gentle hand on my chest. “Jason Tyler Watson, you listen to me, and you listen good. Your mother is fine. She didn’t want to tell you about the Derby team because she knew you’d raise hell, and ridiculing her for wearing makeup was uncalled for.”
My aunt was a sweet woman, usually soft spoken and inviting. If she wasn’t doting on her family, she was cracking us up with her flighty personality. So when her sternness reared its head—or she used full names—you stopped and listened.
“I just don’t get it, Aunt Diane. I moved home to be closer to her because I figured she needed me after Bill died. I expected her to be sad and lonely, not . . . this.”
“She does get sad, but she doesn’t like to show it often. I think she saves the tears for when she’s alone. But you can’t be upset that she’s not giving up. She’s a strong woman—a lot stronger than you give her credit for. At sixty, she still has a lot of living left, and I’m beyond proud of her for recognizing that.”
“Please don’t tell me she’s wearing makeup because she’s starting to date. If so, someone needs to help the woman out.”
She briefly closed her eyes and laughed. “No. Your mother has no desire to date. Bill never liked her to wear makeup because he didn’t think she needed it. She’s always loved it, though, and now that he’s gone, she’s kicking up her heels and enjoying the things she chose to forgo for him. She’s living her life, Jason. Be happy for her. And don’t worry—I think once the newness of the makeup wears off, she’ll tone it down.”
I glanced at my mom through the glass door, recognizing her innocence despite her age. She deserved to find joy in the things she’d once given up. And for the first time in my entire life, I was able to see her in a different light. I smiled, and with a soft squeeze of Aunt Diane’s shoulder, I went outside. My uncle was down on the dock, tending the grill, so I decided to give him a little company.
The sun danced off the lake behind the house while Uncle Fred entertained me with tales from his recent trip. That man spent more time with a rod and reel than anyone I knew. Then again, I’d just spent the last however-many years in Vegas. Not that people didn’t fish out there, but it wasn’t as popular as in the South.
When I heard the patio slider open, I glanced over his shoulder to see which one of my cousins had arrived first. I said a silent prayer that it was Marlena, considering we had always been close and had done our best to keep in touch over the years. Not to mention that her husband would be with her, which would give me someone other than my uncle to hang out with.
Unfortunately, my prayers were ignored and Kelsey stepped outside. I hadn’t seen her since her twenty-first birthday, four years ago. Even though she hadn’t changed much since then, I couldn’t help but picture the ugly duckling she’d been as a kid. She’d certainly grown into a beautiful swan. I made my way up the steps from the dock, and then practically tripped over my own feet when I saw someone follow her out.
It was not her sister.
Unless Marlena had gotten younger and shortened about six inches.
Her brown hair hung a few inches past her shoulders in waves that made her look like she’d just stepped off a sailboat. She squinted against the sun, so I couldn’t see the color of her eyes, but I didn’t miss the way they flashed wider when she spotted my mom. Then she smiled with straight white teeth lined by bright-red lips. That color had a tendency to give off a Marilyn Monroe vibe, yet on her, I got more of a girl-next-door feel.
With a single glance, she’d managed to knock me off my axis.
“Look who it is.” Kelsey strolled toward me. “The prodigal son.”
Slinging my arm over her shoulder to return her half hug, I said, “Nice to see you, too, Kelsey.”
“I thought you were moving back at the end of summer.”
I shrugged, not really wanting to get into the specifics with her. We were as close as two cousins of the opposite sex and six years apart could be, but that didn’t mean I’d kept her in the loop on things. “I decided to come early. I didn’t see the point in leaving Mom alone for another two months.”
She giggled, as if anything I said was meant as a joke. “Knowing your mom, having you here early is cramping her style.”
Without giving me a chance to question what she’d meant by that, she walked away. I thought that indicated our interaction was over, until she grabbed her friend by the arm and brought her over to me.
“Jason, this is my best friend, Tatum.”
I ignored my cousin’s very clear warning and regarded the goddess in front of me. She was even more beautiful up close. And when she lifted her gaze, I found myself trapped in the most intoxicating pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen.
Rich wasn’t enough to describe them. Melted dark chocolate was perhaps the closest comparison I could make, and even that didn’t do the color justice. They were intense, like two black holes, ready to suck me in and never spit me back out.
Captivating . . . that’s what they were.
I realized I hadn’t done anything but stare at her, so I cleared my throat and said, “Nice to meet you, Tatum.”
She held out her hand, which I took. Yet rather than a normal handshake, she lightly held it while staring up at me. We seemed to be stuck in a time warp, both lost in each other’s gazes without a word, as thou
gh no one else was around. That was, until Kelsey decided to remind us of her presence.
“Jason just moved here from Vegas. Don’t get too close to him, though . . . he used to work in a landfill, so he probably smells like garbage.” Kelsey pinched her nose and curled her upper lip in feigned disgust.
“You don’t have a clue what I do, do you?”
Either Tatum didn’t find my cousin funny, or she flat out didn’t care, because instead of laughing, smiling, or even commenting on Kelsey’s insult, she asked, “Have you found a place yet?”
“Yeah, but I have to wait a few weeks. It should be ready by the first.”
Finally, she seemed to realize that we still held hands, but rather than shake my hand or squeeze it—or anything to suggest she’d meant the gesture as a greeting—she just let go. And then she wiped her palm on her jean-covered thigh. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Maybe she’d taken Kelsey’s landfill comment to heart.
She offered a forced smile and said, “Well, it was nice meeting you. Have fun.” And then walked away.
There was no telling what my cousin had said about me prior to them showing up, but rather than question it, I eyed Kelsey inquisitively. “Is she leaving?”
“Nope.” She stared at the sliding glass door and watched Tatum slip inside. “That’s just Tatum Alexander. A bit of a nerd, that one is.”
A barking laugh ripped through my chest. “No wonder you two are friends.”
“Best friends. And speaking of . . .” She narrowed her gaze and stabbed me in the center of my chest with a finger. “Stay away from her. And that’s not meant as a challenge, either. I mean it, Jason. Now that our age difference doesn’t pose legal issues for you, if you’d like to screw my friends, there’s nothing stopping you. But please, if you do anything with any of my friends, she’s where I draw the line.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Calm down, tiger. I’m not going after anyone.”
“Better not.” She jutted her chin out, as if threatening to attack, and then headed inside with her mysterious friend.
It was good to see things hadn’t changed too much around here.
Not wanting to be entertained by my uncle and his fishing stories again, I followed my cousin.
Tatum was in the kitchen, standing next to my mom behind the stove. They both smiled as they shared some sort of joke no one else was privy to. I took a seat at the breakfast bar, directly in front of Tatum, and propped my chin on my fist to watch her as she showed my mom how to sauté mushrooms. I wasn’t sure what they thought was so funny about garlic, but I wasn’t about to ask. It was just nice to see my mom happy.
“You like to cook?” I asked, catching Tatum’s attention. It made me question how focused she was on the frying pan not to have noticed me sit down. I couldn’t have been more than a foot away from her.
Her eyes met mine briefly before she went back to instructing my mom. When she answered me, she kept her attention on the mushrooms, as if speaking to them instead of me. “Yeah, I enjoy it.”
My mom scoffed. “She’s a chef, Jason. This is what she does for a living. You know that gravy you liked so much? Tatum taught me how to make it. Now that you’re single and will be living on your own, maybe she could teach you how to cook real food.”
While my mom bragged on her as if she were her own daughter, I never glanced away from Tatum’s face. The slight blush on her ivory cheeks could’ve come from the heat wafting off the pan, although I’d say that was unlikely.
Ignoring Mom’s comment, I said, “So I guess you know your way around a kitchen, huh?”
“Well, I’m pretty familiar with this one. I’m over here a lot with Kels, so yeah, I know my way around. You can only open the silverware drawer looking for a whisk so many times before you learn where everything is.”
I bit my lip to hold back my laughter. She didn’t know me, and I didn’t know her, so the last thing I wanted to do was give her the impression that I was making fun of her.
“Tater,” Kelsey called from around the corner. And without another word, Tatum was gone.
She seemed to have a knack for walking away and leaving me with women who had the power to scare me with a single glance.
“Who made most of the meals? You or Jen?” My mom knew exactly what she was doing. She was well aware I didn’t care to discuss my ex, and by bringing her up, she was effectively shooing me from the kitchen.
“Great talk, Ma. But I gotta take a leak.” I slapped the bar top and slid off the stool.
On my way back from the restroom, I heard voices from the formal living room, near the front door. Assuming Tatum and Kelsey were still in there, I quietly slipped down the hall to find out what they were talking about. “What are you two doing in here all alone? Gossiping? Anything that would interest me?”
There was a narrow space on the couch between my cousin and her friend, just enough for a small person. I wasn’t small, so I practically sat on their laps until they scooted over to make room. With an arm over each girl—Kelsey to my left and Tatum on my right—I invited myself into their hushed conversation.
“No, you creeper. Get off.” Kelsey tried to push me away, but I refused to budge.
We had always been like this, so she shouldn’t have acted so appalled by my interruption. Granted, long gone were the days when I would put her in a headlock and give her a noogie. But that didn’t mean she shouldn’t have expected me to join her when we both knew she didn’t want me to. There was something to be said about one’s maturity level around family.
“What?” I played dumb. “I just want to spend some time with my cousin.”
Even though I faced Kelsey, that didn’t mean I wasn’t fully aware of Tatum’s presence. She hadn’t moved or said a single word since I’d sat down, and I only hoped she was just shy and not uncomfortable being next to me.
“Fine. You wanna hear what we were talking about? I was just telling Tatum about my last period.”
Liar.
I turned toward my cousin’s friend and lowered my voice. “She forgets I grew up around a bunch of females.”
“I bled. A lot. So much, in fact, I ruined my favorite pants. There was blood everywhere. It looked like a massacre. Everyone at the office thought I was dying. They called for an ambulance.”
With my eyes locked on Tatum’s, who now appeared beyond uncomfortable, I said, “You should tell your friend that when she wants to scare someone off, she shouldn’t say things that would only embarrass herself.”
Just then, Tatum’s lips split into a smile so wide it made her squint, and I couldn’t help but do the same. We just sat there, laughing as though we’d known each other our whole lives. Time stood still, until out of nowhere, Kelsey screamed, “Mom! That isn’t even your phone. I took yours away for a reason. No one likes to have candid pictures taken all the time.”
Kelsey launched herself off the couch and crossed the room to block her mom.
“Are you sure? It looks like mine.” Aunt Diane held the cell farther away to examine it.
“Yes, I’m sure. This is Tatum’s. I confiscated yours so you wouldn’t spend all day being the self-appointed photographer.”
“What? I like to go back and look at my shots.”
“That would be totally fine, Mom, if you didn’t post them all over Facebook. No one, and I mean no one, wants the whole world seeing the worst-possible pictures of themselves.”
Aunt Diane waved her off. “You’re too hard on yourself. I don’t share anything that would make you look bad. See here?” She turned the screen to show Kelsey the image she’d taken. “It’s a nice photo.”
“How would you know? You’re not wearing your glasses. You couldn’t even tell this wasn’t your phone.”
“It’s an easy mistake. It looks just like mine.”
“It looks nothing like yours, Mom.” She snatched the device from Aunt Diane’s hand and held it up to show her the back. “See? This case is blue, and it has some stupid saying ab
out cooks written on it—no offense, Tater. Yours is black. Plain black.”
Without taking my eyes off the comedy show in front of me—or removing my arm from around Tatum’s shoulders—I leaned closer and whispered, “How much do you think her arm will hurt from beating this into the ground?”
Rather than respond, Tatum giggled. I didn’t hear it as much as I felt the slight rumble along my side. It gave me hope that she was, in fact, just an introvert.
“Not to mention,” Kelsey continued as though she didn’t have an audience behind her, “wouldn’t you have noticed it wasn’t yours when you couldn’t unlock it to get into the camera app?”
“Oh, honey. I never have to do that. You just swipe to the left, and the camera pops up. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.” Aunt Diane pursed her lips and crossed her arms. And again, Tatum’s body against mine began to shake with silent laughter.
“What about the background? When you hit the button to swipe to the left, you didn’t ask yourself, ‘Why is there a stupid picture of the Swedish Chef on my phone?’—again, no offense, Tatum,” she added over her shoulder.
“None taken.”
Aunt Diane didn’t give in. “You think I could see that? I don’t have my glasses.”
Kelsey tossed her head back with exaggerated frustration—well, it might’ve been genuine—and groaned. Her mom shrugged and then pivoted on her heel to return to the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, she yelled, “Fred! Where’s my digital camera?”
Another groan rumbled past my cousin’s lips. She quickly tossed the phone at Tatum and then turned to chase her mother. The last thing we heard was, “Don’t you dare tell her where it’s at, Dad!”
Once we were alone, neither of us could stop the fits of laughter from consuming us. “How have they not scared you away by now?” I asked, shifting on the stiff cushion to face Tatum.
The humor on her lips faded while she met my gaze. “I’d give anything to have a family like yours. Being around them makes me feel like I’m part of it.”
“You don’t have any family?” I immediately felt bad for her, never wanting anyone to go without at least one parent in their life.
The (Half) Truth Page 2
